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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26517913">the song of wandering aengus</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreadfulbeauties/pseuds/dreadfulbeauties'>dreadfulbeauties</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>A Place in the Sun (1951)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, F/M, Romance, actually a whole bucketload because this movie broke me, and a pinch of tragedy, character death is hecka implied, i could've written a fix-fic but noooooo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 04:00:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>387</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26517913</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreadfulbeauties/pseuds/dreadfulbeauties</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>George and Angela, for the last time.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>George Eastman/Angela Vickers</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>the song of wandering aengus</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">If someone had told George that Angela was Snow White stepped out of a painting, he would have believed them.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He remembers being awestruck — dizzyingly so — when she’d first stepped into that room: Face aglow with a slight pointed chin, brilliantly violet long-lashed eyes, face haloed by short and close-cropped dark hair the color of fresh ink. She was (no <em>is</em>, because Angela will be here still long after he’s gone) radiant.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> But Angela is not a painting. A heart — a beautiful heart, a kind one that was drawn to him even with his rags — beats within her chest in place of charcoal marks and paint. A heart that she was willing to hand over to George if he gave her his. But now he is going to face the penalty of death for a crime he didn’t commit, and he has to give her heart back.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> (He should have handed Alice her heart further back, too. He’d be lying if he claimed that there was nothing save for numbness — there is guilt gripping him as well.)</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Angela clings to him to him for the last time, tears distorting her bright eyes. He can’t help but think that were she the Snow White of the fairy tales that she resembled, that this would have ended differently. She would have been able to save her prince and they would live as close as they could to happily ever after, slowly the gaping hole in him ripped open by guilt would knit itself shut. But they don’t live in a fairy tale. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Save for guilt over Alice (<em>God, </em>he pleads to himself in his mind, <em>God, I’m sorry, Alice I’m sorry</em>) he doesn’t feel anything. Doesn’t feel anything when Angela has to let go of him and glance at him for the last time, doesn’t feel anything as he’s led away. Because as far as George is convinced, he deserves this. He hates himself. Hated himself from the beginning, and let that loathing eat away at him and make his mind and soul rot as he climbed his way up to the top.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> The last thing George thinks of as he’s seated in the electric chair is the memory of him and Angela by the lake, her gazing up at the sky and cradling him close in her arms.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hello! this movie tore my heart out of my chest and spat on it :] once i finished watching it i felt dead inside.</p><p>the title is taken from william butler yeats' poem "the song of wandering aengus". beautiful little bit of work, you can read it if you haven't already.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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